


Crack The Shutters Open Wide

by ragingrainbow



Category: White Collar
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Ficlet, Gunkink, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Neal tenses when the cold metal touches his skin. He draws in a deep, shaky breath. Peter knows he’s blinking behind his blindfold, fighting to see.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crack The Shutters Open Wide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChooseToLive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChooseToLive/gifts).



> There was talk of Neal/Peter gunkink and then this random piece of brain vomit happened? Idek.

There are things Peter has done to Neal that he had fantasized about for years; since before he ever met Neal. Other things - most things - he has wanted to do only to Neal; products of frustration and love and Neal’s trusting gaze. This is neither of those things. 

This is uncharacteristically spur of the moment, born from a few panicked hours of thinking he might really lose Neal; a horrible aching need to make Neal feel the fear he felt. To remind Neal who he belongs to - to convince himself that Neal is still his. 

Neal tenses when the cold metal touches his skin. He draws in a deep, shaky breath. Peter knows he’s blinking behind his blindfold, fighting to see. 

“I don’t like guns...” Neal mumbles, still holding perfectly still for Peter.

“I know,” Peter says, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. A subtle reminder that Neal has a safeword to use; that Peter will never be disappointed with him for doing so. Peter goes as still as Neal for a few beats, to let Neal decide. 

Neal says nothing further; just shifts backwards slightly, closer to the safety of Peter. Peter catches him easily, steadying him with his free hand. He smiles his encouragement, then realizes Neal can’t see him and hums a _“good boy”_ against Neal’s neck instead.

Neal keeps still as Peter moves the gun, dragging it up Neal’s side, down again then across his stomach. Neal trembles as Peter holds the gun above his dick; he’s so, so tense against Peter’s chest now, but he’s getting hard. 

“You like this, don’t you, boy?” The answer’s obvious, but Peter thinks they both need him to say it. 

“Yes,” Neal says softly, then - as Peter traces the gun towards the middle of his chest - he whines; “Please, Peter, please.” 

“Tell me what you need.” Peter strokes his gun-less hand over Neal’s arm to soothe him. 

“Want to see, please...”

It’s not what Peter expected him to say, Neal has never voiced an aversion to being blindfolded before. But maybe it’s a good thing he did, because Peter realizes the blindfold was a mistake on his end. He wants Neal to see, and more than that, he wants to see Neal seeing.

Peter puts the gun down on Neal’s leg - right beside where Neal’s hand is splayed - so he can get the blindfold off. Neal keeps his eyes closed for a moment, blinking them open slowly when Peter pulls him back against his chest. Neal’s gaze is unfocused for a moment, needing to adjust even to the soft lighting of the bedroom. When he focuses on Peter, the trust in his eyes hits Peter even harder than usual. 

Peter’s hand might be shaking a little as he picks the gun back up. Neal’s gaze stays locked on his as he draws a line up Neal’s chest, only stopping at Neal’s throat. The angle is a little awkward as he presses the barrel in under Neal’s chin. Neal tips his head back, straining to hold his position while keeping his eyes on Peter’s face. 

Neal doesn’t even know if the gun is loaded. Of course it’s not, Peter had checked and double checked. But Neal wasn’t there, and yet here he is, completely at Peter’s mercy. He’s trembling, breath hitching, but he’s not afraid of what Peter will do to him. 

“Touch yourself.” Peter’s voice sounds gravelly to his own ears, like so many emotions stuck in his throat. 

Neal chokes on a breath as he gets a hand on himself. He strains to reach, with the muzzle of Peter’s gun against his throat he’s forced to arch back against Peter. Their gazes are still locked, and Peter can see him coming apart, can see _everything_ , and he wants to do so many things to Neal and yet it feels like all he wants is this, forever. 

Neal is silent as he comes, where normally he’s babbling and pleading like the sharpest kind of trickster. Peter drops the gun and kisses him, whispering praise against his lips.


End file.
